


Fresh Wounds and Mince Meat

by Lor_Lupin



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Asexual Relationship, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, ace relatioship, adopted pets, he/they pronouns for Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:53:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28301166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lor_Lupin/pseuds/Lor_Lupin
Summary: Aziraphale lets the pet into his life, his bookshop... and Crowley's armchair.The demon isn't pleased with the situation.A Christmas gift for my dear Lihuén.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Fresh Wounds and Mince Meat

It’s a foggy, sluggish night when Aziraphale first spots her.

He has been noticing a scratching and clanking sounds for the last week, right in the middle of his late-night reading, around maybe two or three in the morning. It’s made him jump, the first time, unused to such sounds around that late hour, but after the incident kept repeating night after night during four days, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

He followed the sound, armed with an iron cast umbrella, willing to scare away any rat or human he might encounter but when he finally approached the back alley where the sound seem to emanate from, he encountered little else but his own trash bin tumbled on the ground and a few scraps of yesterday’s meal.

Next day, he was ready when the clanking and rustling started, so he was finally able to glance at the lank, limping hound that nibbled on the remains of his t-bone. The angel lowered his weapon, examining the dog from the backdoor, afraid of scaring her away if he moved any closer or made sudden moves.

She had no collar and her hair was dirty, still short but overgrown while little patches of fur were missing where wounds in various states of healing marred her skin. Her eyes were dark as her skin, sad orbs that barely looked in his direction but when they did, didn’t seem especially violent, just tired and pleading. She wasn’t a particularly breed Aziraphale was aware of, probably a mix of greyhound and German Shepard but he was no expert and neither did he care.

Aziraphale’s heart broke a little as he watched her licking the bones in search of any morsel left, hurrying to the kitchen and back, bringing some of the items his fridge contained and he deemed appropriate for the dog: some ham and the ground beef he planned to use for tomorrow’s Bolognese.

The dog sniffled in his direction, wagging his tail and eyeing the food on his hands warily.

Aziraphale approached her in small, measured steps, introducing himself with a calmed voice.

The stray whined as he lowered some of the ham to the ground. He petted her back while she chewed on the meat.

“Nice to meet you, little one. You can come back whenever you feel hungry” he whispered when she was done polishing the mince, scratching between her ears.

She barked slightly -who knows if in agreement. Aziraphale smiled, patting her head one more time before rising up and getting back to his bookstore, closing the backdoor as the dog disappeared into the darkness.

She didn’t come back for 2 days, which had Aziraphale a little disappointed, since he had already bought some food cans for her and researched how he could try and clean some of the still open wounds he saw last time.

Aziraphale was rearranging some books on the front when she passed by on her way to the back alley, apparently. It was the middle of the day but that didn’t stop Aziraphale from shooing away the annoying costumer. He looked for the cans and the bowls he had planned to use, piled them all and brought them to the back door where he found the dog laying on the alley, her eyes trained on the door.

He placed the bowls with food and water on the doorstep and she approached almost instantly.

They stablish a routine where she came a couple times a week and Aziraphale talked to her while she ate, drank and sometimes lapped his hand unexpectedly.

Aziraphale told her about his day, about Crowley, about the divine plan, angels, demons and the Apocadon’t. The dog mostly are the cans, fruits, meat and lately, tricks, the angel kept bringing but sometimes her eyes raised from the bowls to look at him in the eye with an understanding gaze.

She has started to look less skinny but she refuses any treatment on her wounds that Aziraphale has tried to implement or even the time he tried to clean up her fur with a bucket of water and some soap.

He didn’t know what to call her, so he just addressed her as “pup” or “darling”. He was also unaware of her gender, so he tried to be respectful and use neutral pronouns.

A month after she started to come, Aziraphale has earned enough of her trust for her to let him rub her belly. She whined when it’s time for their goodbye so the angel petted her side, asking her if she’d like to stay.

He opened the door, stepping inside while letting her made her own decision.

She pawed into the bookstore warily in a short time, leaving muddy footprints on the polished wood floors, but she seemed to enjoy the warmth of the place. She stayed inside when Aziraphale moved to close the door, and that’s how Eve became a permanent fixture in his life.

He purchases a bed and gives her one of his own soft tartan blankets to snuggle on at a bookstore corner. She is more agreeable to a bath this time around and after he coaxes her to wear the collar and leash, he is able to bring her to the vet, examine her and asses what cares she might need. She has had a rough life so far, the vet informs. Eve is still young, two- or three-years tops, they can’t be sure without more data and she might not have been a stray all her life. Someone might have abandoned her or maybe she got lost but she has been living in the streets for a long time. He decides her name right there, filling up all the paperwork.

Eve has nightmares and whines loudly, trashing on her cot until Aziraphale shootees her with light pets on her back. She barks at anyone touching the books of the store without Aziraphale’s permission -for which she is rewarded most of the times- and she hates Crowley with a passion.

Crowley isn’t keen on her staying in the bookstore either; he doesn’t like how hairy their armchair is -she naps there while Aziraphale peruses an old book or the daily newspaper- or her chewing in the pair of tartan socks Crowley got for Aziraphale two Christmases ago or the look of total adoration Aziraphale gets when she snuggles against his legs at any point in time.

The demon is not about to recognize that they’re jealous of a dog… But they try to convince Shadwell, Anathema and even the Youngs to adopt Eve just so she stops snarling anytime the demon comes near her owner or so Aziraphale stops rejecting their dates -shut up, Croely calls them dates in his head although Aziraphale doesn’t know they are just that, how does he call them? Temptations- because pets aren’t allowed at the Ritch (as if he was about to invite Eve). And that is the worst part by far: the angel always chooses her side over Crowley’s.

Eve gets a collar with a small tartan bow and her name in golden letters. She is less scared of her owner leaving the store without her every day and is more relaxed, settled in the space as her new home. Her riff with Crowley doesn’t get better.

Eve is less confrontational now, at least she hasn’t tried to bite his leg during the last two weeks but she still glares and barks in their direction whenever he gets what she deems “too close” to the angel. Crowley is at the end of his tether when Aziraphale suggests he stays home with her during the week he will be gone performing a miracle in a small village in Canada. Both Crowley and Eve are absolutely against this outrageous idea but Eve is distrusting of anyone that she hasn’t been around for a long time and Crowley can’t say no to Aziraphale’s doe eyes so pet and demon agree to tolerate each other for the sake of Aziraphale.

Crowley notices during that week, for the first time, the slight limping and sad eyes. He remembers the little snippets Aziraphale has given him of Eve’s past: how she was probably abandoned, how she had lived in the streets for months starving until she found Aziraphale’s store and how she is scared of loud noises and brooms even to this day, her fear of the angel not returning whenever he went grocery shopping -the first month she apparently felt so scared, he found her weeping in a corner every time he came back… Maybe they are not so different to each other, the demon thinks, trying for a scratch between her ears warily. Eve doesn’t complain, her gaze is still unfriendly but she hasn’t growled at them yet, maybe that’s a start.

He lets him put the leash on her collar for their daily walks but she still manages to pee on his leather snake boots most days when they’re distracted picking up her poop.

Aziraphale calls everyday to check on them -mostly to make sure they haven’t fought each other to death and destroyed his bookshop in their wake, but he also demands to have Eve on the speaker phone to tell her how good of a girl she is and listen to her happy barks. Crowley would be sheeting if he didn’t find the whole thing absolutely adorable, following closely the ten to fifteen minutes “conversations” the owner and pet had every day.

On Thursday, the whines wake them from his deep slumber. Eve is pawing at the door, crying to be let in. Crowley notices then the thunderstorm and realizes how scared the dog might be, he opens the door of his bedroom and she rushes in, almost tackling them in the process of hugging their legs.

The demon lowers to pet her sides and murmurs sweet nothings to her right ear until her breathing feels more even against their neck… when did he let her rest her head on their -now very damp- shoulder?

Crowley picks her up as carefully as he can and places her at the bottom of his bed, feeling her curl up against his feet when they get into bed again.

“Everything will be okay, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere”

They fall asleep shortly after that and the dog is still huddled on top of his feet by the time he wakes up mid-morning. Crowley won’t admit the surge of affection and protectiveness he feels when she wags her tail as he sits up and reaches their hand to her head. She leans into their caress and then licks their fingers -without trying to chomp them first, Crowley is astonished.

Aziraphale comes back on Saturday and he isn’t quite sure of what to expect when he walks off the taxi but it certainly isn’t Crowley and Eve wrapped under a blanket on the sofa upstairs, dozing off to a Golden Girls rerun. They don’t even notice Aziraphale’s loud steps or his calling for any of them. The angel ponders if he has ever seen either of them just as relaxed or contented and he fails to remember.

He places a gentle kiss to Crowley’s hair without thinking much about it, removing the sunglasses from the bridge of his nose which scrunches up before relaxing again, emitting low whizzing sounds that… does Crowley snore?

Aziraphale has never given much thought to it. He knows the demon revels in napping as one of “the best human pleasures” – the angel himself is not fond of it, he rather not sleep at all if he can help it. It is endearing, the small sounds and the way his body unconsciously huddles closer to the nearest source of heat that happens to be Eve.

Maybe he should take a picture, but he’d run out of film roll on Adam’s last birthday and quite frankly, it was quite impossible to find a new one for his Kodak circa 1986… no, he wasn’t about to purchase a new one or get one of those devilish devices everyone was so obsessed with these days… you know, those ones people called smart but were rather dumb in the angel’s opinion.

Eve stirred and sniffed with her eyes still closed, detecting her owner’s smell and jumping from the sofa in an instant, waking up Crowley in the process, his eyes big as saucers with surprise and confusion.

“Angel, you’re back early” the demon yawns when they finally regains their bearings. Eve had tackled Aziraphale with her whole body, nuzzling her nose against his chest in an affectionate manner.

“I’ve missed you too” he said softly, running his hands over the soft fur, not looking in Crowley’s direction yet somehow, it felt like it was directed at them.

The demon feels his eyes sting, a little worried he might start crying for a weird, sentimental reason he rather not delve on but then he realizes he’s missing his sunglasses, perched over Aziraphale’s bowtie, on the collar of his shirt. How did they even get there?

“Ngk anyway, I guess I can go now. Eve has eaten lunch, taken her morning walk and the vet called to remind you of your appointment on Monday”

Crowley raises from the sofa, demanding silently with their stare for the sunglasses. Aziraphale first asks Eve to sit and after she has obeyed - he could do that? When had he trained her? - her owner gives back the sunglasses that had mysteriously migrated from Crowley’s nose to Aziraphale’s shirt.

“Thank you so much Crowley. For taking care of Eve. I know you two aren’t good friends and it must have been…”

The demon waves his left hand, placing the glasses on their proper place.

“Anytime, you just… You know I’d do anything”

His voice was always softer when he spoke to Aziraphale but he seems even more mellow than usual and that was enough to bring a smile to the angel’s face.

“I know. You didn’t have to, tho”

Crowley isn’t blushing. That’s just the damned lighting of the place, not at all a blush. They turn before anyone could notice the ‘non-blush’, heading towards the stairs.

“We had fun, it was fun. I wouldn’t mind taking care of her again if you ever umhh… You know what I mean. Good to see you back”

Crowley was on the last step of the stairs on their way to the exit when he heard the dog whine. They instinctively look over their shoulder, both the pet and owner were looking at him retreat from the top of the stairs.

“I think she wants you to stay”

“She doesn’t even like me” the demon huffs, perplexed.

As if on cue, Eve runs downs the steps all the way to nip at his skinny jeans, pleading eyes as she barks softly, only once – “yes, I do” they can almost hear her say. The demon pets her cheek furry with the back of his hand.

“I’ll start the kettle” the angel sighs happily, not admitting discussion.

So Crowley climbs the stairs up again; he plays with Eve until tea is done and Aziraphale tells them all about his misadventures. They sit hip to hip on the couch, drinking from their cups as Eve lays on their feet, asking for pets from both equally and whining whenever she loses their attention.

Crowley wishes he could stay on this moment forever, bickering with their angel as the pet licks the biscuit crumbs from their fingers and none of them has a care in the world.

**FIN**

This a photo of Paz, the dog Eve has been inspired on

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction is a gift for my dear Lihuén (@l_tukic in Twitter) and it’s slightly inspired by her beautiful dog, Paz. 
> 
> I hope he enjoys the little story because it’s the first one I write in over a year and I wasn’t completely sure if I’d be able to do it but, here I am and I finished in time for the Sheeñoras gift exchange. A Christmas miracle indeed!  
> I love you Lin, thank you so much for being such a sweet, caring and understanding friend.


End file.
